Marking the Day

When I was 29 my mother died. I was in a period of intense self-evaluation, and a very fragile state of mind. I am fond of saying that had been broke and broken. Once my mother died I was beyond broken; I was inconsolable.

Every year it has been the same: my mother's birthday, followed by my divorced parents anniversary, the date of my mother's death, and then Mother's Day, all within a five-week period. I used to call it "the season".

Then, long about year seven, all of sudden it got easier. I don't know what made the difference, but I remember where I was and what I was doing when I realized I had changed. My step mother and I were having lunch at a chain restaurant in the mall with a friend of hers. We were talking about our parents. I was describing the events, and I realized it was actually the seventh anniversary of my mother's death, and unlike all of the previous anniversaries, I hadn't remembered it. It was the only time that I have actually been happy about not remembering something of great personal signifigance.

I had another similar milestone this year; I didn't remember the anniversary of my mother's death until the next day. It wasn't until someone told me Mother's Day was coming up that I realized I had weathered the season nearly pain-free.

I used to ask my mom about my grandfather who died the year I was born. I asked her why she could talk about him without crying. She said, "The pain is still there, it's just no longer a new fact." I never thought that I would be thinking this about the person who taught me that, but time really does heal all wounds, and my mother's death has ceased to be a new fact.

Going in the Wrong Direction

Some days I wake up with a feeling of going in the wrong direction, and this feeling persists all day regardless of what I do thoughout the course of the day. I don't know why this is, but it is harder to figure out what to do when I can't rely on my feelings to tell me what are good things to do.

Today, I woke up with a feeling of optimism and hope until I looked outside and it was snowing. It is no longer snowing, but now the feeling of optimism with which I greeted the morning is gone. So, sometimes right after I wake up the feeling comes over me.

Sometimes I don't get the feeling until I am up and doing things. For example, if I know certain chores must get done, and get up and do them right away, I may have feelings of well-being that last most of the day. However, if I put one foot wrong, then the feeling comes back. I can make the feeling go away by thinking about several courses of action. I do which ever one provokes the least negative feelings.

I guess it's dread that I feel, fear of an unknown enemy, fear of success, fear of failure, fear of being so afraid I do nothing and waste my whole life. My life would me so different if I were incapable of feeling fear. I read an article about people who are incapable of fear, and they do not invariably act irrationally or erratically. Most of them just get on with living, and are usually very effective people.

I wish I were effective people, but often I am paralysed by fear. Fear of leaving the house is the worst one for me. Oddly enough, I almost never have the going in the wrong direction feeling when I am out. Whether it is being out that quashes that feeling, or whether I wouldn't be able to get out if I were feeling that feeling, is unclear. Some days I want so badly to leave the house, but am unable to achieve escape velocity. Longing to be free of my prison of inside, and pets, and too much stuff and screaming birds... I long for the Sun and the open sky and to be alone, in all of my glory, outside.

The courage this takes is often beyond me, as it is right now. There are so many steps to get though before I can go out: the proper attire, keys, bag, phone all must be found and assembled... or perhaps these are self-inflicted barriers I put up in order to stay safe inside.

I will get out today. And tomorrow, perhaps I will get out tomorrow. All that out is frightening and exhilarating, and a reason to wake up tomorrow with optimism, and with any luck no dread.

Like a Healthy Animal

For years I have been too warm all of the time. By too warm, I mean the only person too warm in a crowded room at standard room temperature. No lie, I used to set the thermostat at 64 and was comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans, no socks and sitting still for hours.

Then I got thyroid disease, and was pleased (for a while) to be able to get cold. It took a long time for the novelty to wear off, but it did one day mid-winter. It was minus ten out, and I was bundled under a sheet and two comforters, wearing long underwear, a t-shirt, shorts, long sleeved t-shirt, long pants and socks, and I was still shivering. I felt stuggish and tired and awful.

After being treated for an underactive thyroid, I don't get unpleasantly warm, at least not yet, and most times I am comfortable, but I find my back gets cold. This is so strange to me. Part of it is my new shorter haircut, but part of it is a vestage of the havoc auto-immune disease is wreaking on my body.

I don't want this. I don't want to be sick anymore. I want to be well, feel well, be normal, a regular person just like everyone else. I don't want to sink down inside my body anymore, lacking energy, ambition, drive because I am still here, damnit. And for the first time in a long time, I felt pleasantly cold again. I felt well, I felt whole, I felt normal. It was magificent.

I had worked out at the gym. I am a big advocate of Planet Fitness. I find it to be a non-punitive place for people to work on their bodies, develop personalized routines and goals based on giving their bodies what their bodies need. Even when I had stopped all other non-essential spending, I kept my gym membership in the hopes that I would go back. And I have started again.

So, I had worked out. Sweating is a now a sublime experience for me. I have a funny relationship with water. When my bloodsugar was too high, I couldn't get enough of water, and sweated horribly, uncontrollably. Now I sweat, but when I do it means something: that I have worked hard and done a good job. It being a glorious day, I left partway though my workout so that I could finish the walking portion outside.

For the first time since being sick, I walked outside in shorts, even though my skin was wet. Walking kept me just warm enough not to need long pants, but allowed me to feel invigorated by the cold, like a healthy animal playing outside in the spring.

I feel happy and enthusiastic and whole.

The Domino Effect

Since the last time that I wrote a new year, disease, pets, deaths, students, and household rearrangement have come to pass.

I got really sick last fall and didn't know that I was sick, however it had a profound affect on my life and the lives of those that relied on me. When my thyroid quit it was a quick, twenty-pound trip back to high blood sugar and pressure, so tired I couldn't leave the house, or even my room most days, let alone work, prepare proper meals or work out. I neither called my friends nor engaged with the world. And I didn't miss it. I didn't have the energy to care.

While I was sick, my senior rabbit, Blue, got sick. I was too tired to notice. There was nothing that I felt I could do for him without money, and I couldn't make money because I had no energy. So I turned a blind eye to his suffering.

Miraculously, the thyroid problem came to light, treatment began, and the struggle to regain control over my life began anew. However, Blue was too far gone. He died last night. I am left with the sure and certain knowledge that I did not do the best that I could.

I don't believe in euthanasia, but in his case I made an exception. He was unable to move his feet. The doctor said that there was a 50/50 chance that he was in excruciating pain from the underlying neurological cause, which may or may not have been a broken back. I had seen him do something, which once described, the vet said could have caused this condition, so it was not out of the question.

Secondarily, he had an abscess in his jaw. There had been a foul discharge from his nose which I had taken to be a sinus infection, however this was probably pus from the infected jaw seeping into his throat. That would have been very painful as well.

His prognosis was poor on both fronts. Outcomes would be limited in their efficacy at best and at worst either procedure/course of treatment could kill him. Worse, the treatments and recoveries would be painful and he would have been in pain until both problems were cured. Worst, most likely either or both were incurable, in which case his suffering would have been all for naught.

How could I put a rabbit, one that had always been gentle with me, who was calm, tolerant and patient with children and other pets, despite the pain, foul odor and taste and the times when I would try in vain to keep his nose clean, how could I subject him to this? What had he ever done that I should hurt him so?

We said our good-byes. He was barely responsive, but I patted him for a while on his forehead. As a healthier rabbit, when I patted his cheeks, his ears would spring up. They didn't, and that was how I knew that while the body may have been minimally functional, that life was well and truly over.

I loved him. He was a wonderful companion, an unconditionally loving, accepting animal. I hope that he is easy now, as peaceful in death as he was in life. Rest easy, little guy; I will not forget you.

The Power of a Calm, Clear "No!"

Dear All,

It has been 157 days since my last confession. It's been a long time because frankly I haven't had anything to say that I wasn't required to say elsewhere. Today, I have something I can't say elsewhere; there is nowhere safe or private enough. And that is the problem.

For starters, I have taken apart everything in my life and put it all back together differently, possibly better. I feel an overwhelming sense of loss, loss of the familiar, loss of friendships, loss of family, loss of love.

There is also wonderment at how things have changed. I went from being hopelessly unable to balance my books to being increasingly able to do so. I have health insurance in my own name for the first time as an adult. I have a car, one which works perfectly, for the first time in twenty years. In short, I have a plan about how to get myself out of the mess I got myself into. I'm not out of it yet, but it's only a matter of time.

It all happened because I was absolutely unable to say no to anyone when I really really needed to say no. I was a doormat. Whatever my husband wanted, I couldn't stand for him not to have it. I never asked myself what I wanted. I didn't want to have to pay for both of us all of the time, and so I was angry all of the time. My friends treated me as if I existed for their convenience. I had no control over my time; this was annoying but I never thought that it was dangerous.

Then, I landed in the hospital, and I told everyone who was asking too much to leave me alone. And my life got better. The power of saying no is extraordinary, and liberating, especially to someone not allowed to say the word.

It's funny that the very people who are and were so adept at using that word were the ones who were the angriest when I said it to them. This was something that I had no anticipated, but it made me think.

One of my housemates has turned into a right, royal pain in the ass. And I could see myself falling back into the old patterns. There is something that he does that strikes me as extremely wasteful, and since I am the one who pays that bill, I called him on it. He tried not leaving me alone until I had agreed that he could do whatever he wanted. This was after complaining repeatedly about other people not doing a variety of things the way that he wanted them done.

So, I used that all as ammunition; I said to him that I had done everything that he had asked me to do- and that this was something about which I was serious (it is one of a few possible issues that I could pick, however it was the highest priority). He explained to me over and over his reasons for doing things the way he liked (no new reasons after the first time). I told him that I rejected his reasoning as faulty, that I thought he was being unreasonable, that it was my house and as long as I paid the bill, this was not optional, told him we were not going to convince each other, and that we had to agree to disagree, and for that reason I was going to go and do something else. AND THEN I CLOSED THE DOOR.

I was high as a kite after that meeting. I was excited to be me for the first time in a long time. I felt a little unsettled, but mostly relieved; I had weathered the storm and had expressed myself clearly without apology, had defended myself well, and hadn't back down.

It remains to be seen how he will react, although it is interesting to note that he has not paid his rent. It was due yesterday. Although the other housemates agree that the wasteful thing he is doing is silly as well as wasteful, I was the only one in the position to say anything about it because it was skin off of my nose. I don't think that it will have the intended effect, but it might yet. Anyway, I no longer feel like a basketcase, and all due to being able to say, "No!"

Signed,
B

The Dishes Are Calling

Dear All,

When I look at a sink full of dirty dishes, I see a series of steps that I have not undertaken, but which I must, invariably, undertake.

I don't mind sweeping or mopping, there's just something about dirty dishes that seem very formidable. Perhaps I fear that I cannot get them clean enough. Perhaps I feel that there's something wrong with me that I let them accumulate. Perhaps I feel outraged at the sheer number of utensils, cooking vessels, storage containers, and serving implements it takes just to make one meal for two people. Worst of all, perhaps it reminds me of the fridge, which as far as I am concerned could be in another time zone.

Organization is not something that you can buy in a store. Trust me, I've tried. It is an act, a process. I hate the action of this process.

Hate isn't the entire story, though. Some days, cleaning is simply out of the question. My body is like lead and I can't think at all. I call these my dead-end-one-way-street days.

Some days I look at something that I need to organize, and I can't see how to do it. Other days I can see how to do it, but I don't have the energy. These two situations coincide about 40% of the time, thus I am not generally considered a neat person. I call these my red light days.

Sometimes I have a lot of energy, and through sheer determination, even though I can't see how to organize something, by doing one thing, and another and another, I can get things pretty clean. I would say this is happening more and more often, currently at a rate of about 25% of the time. These are very satisfying, but the results are unpredictable. I call these my yellow light days.

Sometimes though, everything seems very clear to me and I am able to whip through all of my tasks. I enjoy cleaning then. These are my green light days. They really aren't happening that often these days, but usually they happen once a week or so.

So saying that I hate cleaning (dish washing) is only an approximate truth. I hate failing at solving the puzzle of what to do first when there's a big job; to me dishes always seem like a big job.

Diabetes and Moderation: Too Little, Too Late

Dear All,

Well, it has finally come to pass. I now have full-blown Diabetes to add to my list of illnesses. Getting rid of the T.V. was good, taking care of the Depression was better, trying to lose some weight, was all very well.

All of this was too little, too late. My body had already taken years of abuse, and its reaction was to become diabetic, and inceasingly depressed. There is a huge co-morbidity between Depression and Diabetes. Diabetes makes Depression worse, and Depression makes Diabetes worse. The brain chemistry is the link between the two. Just like alcoholics can "pickle" their brains with alcohol, a brain steeping in sugar is not an effective brain.

When I began to lose weight, I was thrilled. I thought that it was the ADD medication. Many symptoms of Diabetes are masked by Psychiatric meds. Plus- I didn't want to know. So, I had thought that I was doing better until I landed in the hospital with unbearable stomach pain and my blood sugar was found to be 490, dangerously high. Normal blood sugar is about 100 (80-120). While the stomach pain was probably unrelated, it, let us just say, was a clarion call. I associate the pain with eating badly, and this has been a great motivator to eat well, take my meds and exercise.

So- I have made some changes. Despite the fact that I like carbohydrates, they are my drug of choice, I have cut out 90% of the carbs and 98% of the sugar that I had been eating. I take my meds. These have helped me to get my blood sugar under control. I go to the gym three to five times per week where I can I walk and monitor my heart rate. I love Planet Fitness. It's cheap and people are very friendly and accepting. I have lost many inches, and probably many pounds, but because of the eating disorder (compulsive overeating) I don't weigh myself. Everyday is a new day, a clean slate. If screw up today, I start tomorrow with a fresh mind. If I screwed up yesterday, that was yesterday. Today's a different day. And so, slowly I learn and make progress. These have been the effects.

General sharpness: I am very troubled by some of the changes in myself. I feel a lot sharper. I actually finish my sentences now. I can remember things, and am much more aware of when I have gotten things wrong, or when I am truely confused, or when I myself am being confusing. My clients have been taking advantage of this, and getting me to do things for them because I never objected. I have put a stop to these stressful intrusions on my time.

Stress levels: On-going stress makes bloodsugar go up. Think about it: it's the fight or flight response. Releasing sugar into the blood stream provides quick energy. I try to moderate my stress with exercise and dealing with problems head on if I can bear it. There are drugs to control anxiety, however, they are a last resort for me because they are addictive.

Detailed clarity: I can multi-task, and things seem simpler to me now. Finances, work, editing, going to the gym, driving- these things are all simple and routine. I can work out complex daily tasks and schedules- and can keep things in mind, for example remembering to write down when I have appointments in one place. My sessions are faster, and probably more effective. I can be the rock for my students that they need, especially the struggling ones.

Visual acuity: I can see better, too. It is really frightening to me that I was driving in my condition. I see now why they take peoples' driver licenses away who have uncontrolled high blood sugar. It is very hard to think, react and make good decisions because there is this complete lack of input and processing power. When I drive now, I can drive a bit faster, and I believe more safely because I can see and process information. I always drove about five to ten miles per hour lower than the speed limit because I couldn't see, unless I was late someplace, and then I was a lead-foot. That was really dangerous.

Level of energy: I have some now. Period. I can get out of bed and go places and do things. I take care of myself. As a direct result of increased energy:

Courage: I have the courage to take an honest look at my situation because I have the energy to solve the problems that have been coming up repeatedly for me.

Constant motion: One way that Depression worsens Diabetes is the sedentary nature of those who are depressed. It doesn't have to be running a marathon. Just getting up and walking around is really useful in controlling blood sugar. Since I move more often, it has become easier to lower my blood sugar.

If you or anyone you know has these symptoms: fatigue, extreme thirst, extreme hunger yet weight loss of muscle mass (looks like: very thin limbs but a heavy torso), problems with memory and concentration, heart disease, shortness of breath (due to Asthma, or poor circulation), carbohydrate cravings or Depression you might be saving his or her live by suggesting a trip to the doctor for a blood sugar stick. If you or the person of whom you are thinking do any of these things, these behaviors may be indications that there is a problem: driving really slowly, forgetting appointments, squinting, breaking off speaking in the middle of sentences, losing things or trouble with organization or overindulging in sweets, again, a trip to the doctor for a blood sugar stick might be a really good idea.

Thanks for listening.

Sincerely,
Betsy